


Bitchy And The Beast

by Airelle



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-15
Updated: 2012-01-15
Packaged: 2017-10-29 13:51:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/320615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Airelle/pseuds/Airelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Jim Ellison was not all he seems to be?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bitchy And The Beast

**Author's Note:**

> First published in COME TO YOUR SENSES 17, 2000  
> Never published before on the Internet, as far as I know.

"Hey, Chief, don't you think I look a bit like Arnold Schwarzenegger if I do this?"  Jim forced closed his perpetually-open mouth and squared his jaws.  Then he pointed his chin outward and pumped his biceps.  

_Right.  You look about as Neanderthal as they get,_ thought Blair tartly.  

"Yeah, Jim, although Schwarzy is somewhat more _built_ than you."

Jim's face drooped.  His lower lip trembled and his icy blue-gray eyes swam with unshed tears.

_Great.  With him, it's either the Zone Out From Hell or the Great Ellison Nervous Breakdown of the Week.  I wish he'd sometimes react like those macho types are supposed to: by kicking the shit out of me.  I'd feel less like I've run over his favorite puppy..._

"It's a good thing you're not as bulky, though," he hastened to add.  "You can touch you sides with your elbows, and he can't!"

It was like the sun dawning on a beautiful landscape.  Or like instant plastic surgery.  Jim lost ten years in a heartbeat.

_Careful, Sandburg,_ Blair thought.  _You do that to him one or two more times today, and you're gonna end up changing his diapers._

"So, Chief, are you saying that I look _better_ than him?"

_Sure, if you like slack-jawed, middle-aged, balding muscle mountains with brains the size of a pea._  
  
"Of course, Jim!  He couldn't hold a candle to you."

_Why would he even want to try?_ He _is the one with the fame, the money and the decorative wife._

Jim beamed and lost ten more years.  "You're really good for my ego, Chief."

"Jim?  Have you been sneaking again into my room to read my encyclopedia?"

"Weeellll..." pouted Jim.  "There was this show on the box, and one of the guys kept speaking of his ego...  I thought it was a dirty word.  Was ready to write a complaint to the channel for using these words in a family show."

"Oh?  What made you think it was a swearword?"

"The guy kept saying things like 'my ego is attracted by men; my ego doesn't let me rest.'  Thought it was another name for a really annoying friend.  Well, thanks to your books, I didn't write that letter.  Would have been awkward.  They'd have thought cops were stupid."

"We couldn't have that," said Blair with a straight face (the only straight thing he could claim about his person).

"Nope.  Hey, Chief, what about we go eat out tonight?  I'm buying!"

_Is it his turn to cook?_

"It's my turn to cook, and I don't feel like putting on my flower apron and standing for two hours in the kitchen, pretending to stir some wonderful bolognese, with my arm in a sling and a foul mood."

"Huh?" said Blair articulately.

"Sorry, it was in another episode.  Another season entirely!"

_What's he babbling about?_   "If you say so, Jim."

"Good.  I'll take a shower and change.  Then we hit the hot spots!"

_He must mean the nearest McDonald's._

After fifteen minutes, Jim came out of the bathroom, squeaky clean.  His face was somewhat monstrous.  He reached for Blair with clawed, perfectly inhuman hands, while his red eyes glowed and his insides became visible like on an x-ray picture.

"Uh, Jim, I didn't know you had such a _radical_ change in mind.  I, uh..."

"Sorry, Chief, wrong movie.  And I'm not even married to you.  I'll go back and correct my make-up...  And, Blair...  I love you...  I love you...  I...  love...  you..."

Jim managed to reach the bathroom door before melting completely on the floor.  A minute later, he came out, changed back into his usual pristine self.

Blair was stunned speechless by Jim's confession.

_Is it possible that he truly loves me?  Me, a nerdy, small, effeminate anthropology grad student?  Okay, also brilliant and beautiful and resourceful and always ready to do his bidding, not to mention cooking most of the time...  Well, what's not to love?_

"Did your really mean that, Jim?" squeaked Blair.

"Well, yes!  I'm not one to back off when I promised to pay for a meal."

"Not that, you..."  Blair swallowed his tongue and the word _moron._   "...Big Guy.  The...  the 'love' part.  Did you mean it?"

Jim blushed furiously.  "Uh, I don't...don't know what came upon me.  Guess it was in the script..."

_Here he goes again with those mysterious hints.  Maybe_ I'm _going to kick the shit out of him!_ "Okay, okay.  But.  Did.  You.  Mean.  It?"

The cop's blush intensified.  Blair checked discreetly the fire alarms.  Apparently, his friend had not reached the point where the sirens started blaring.

"I...  Yes!  Yes, I meant it!  Oh, God, I never thought I'd betray myself like that!  Please, Blaaaiiiiir!  Don't leave me!  I need you!  Pleaaaase!

_Leave you, and go where?  Do you think suckers who let you stay for free in a comfortable, heated room with full use of the kitchen and bathroom facilities and a giant lounge are_ that _easy to find?  You're stuck with me for good, man!_

"You're stuck with me for good, Jim.  See, I love you, too.  And you can get up now.  No need to grovel at my feet, I'm staying right where I am."  _And if you want to throw me out, you'll have to carry me bodily outside!_

"I wouldn't have thought you loved me, Chief!  It's so wonderful I don't know what to say."

_Duh, big difference from the usual,_ thought Blair.

"So," Blair mused, "now that we have established that we're in love with each other, what are we gonna do about it?"

"Do we have to do anything about it at all?" asked Jim with a worried frown.

"Well, it's usually the done thing, Jim.  You know, boy meets girl, boy loves girl...  Okay, boy meets _boy_..."

"I...  Uh...  I have a confession to make, Blair." __

_Another one?  The guy is really full of surprises today.  Pleasant change from his usual, predictable, constipated self._

"Yes, Jim?" he said sweetly.

"I...  Weeeellll....  I don't really know what two guys are supposed to do together."

"You mean you never had a male lover before?  Well, it's not all that different from what you do with a woman.  There are only a few dissimilarities between some...bodily parts, if you catch my meaning, and that's pretty much it.  Whatever you need to learn, I'll be glad to teach you, man!" finished Blair with a lecherous grin.

Jim's face took on the hard ex-army, macho, closed look which usually meant that he was mightily puzzled by something and was trying to figure out what was going on.

He muttered something.

"What?  I'm not the Sentinel here, big guy!  What did you say?"

"...  mumble, mumble.... women, either."

"I couldn't hear you, Jim," Blair groused.

"I NEVER DID IT WITH WOMEN, EITHER!" blared Jim.  

The skylight windows exploded.  A shower of sharp fragments rained down on the two men, too engrossed in their discussion to notice they had glass splinters all over them, plus a downpour of rain due to the ever-cheerful weather of Cascade, the aptly-named town.  

There was a collision outside, as shards from the window fell on the road, punctured a tire and sent the hapless driver into the side of an oncoming vehicle.

Luckily, no one was hurt.  In fact, it turned out that the man and the woman involved in the accident fell instantly in love and lived together happily ever after.  Both had to buy a new car, though.

"Did you just say what I thought I heard?" asked Blair in a small, bemused voice.

"Depends on what you thought you heard," mumbled Jim unhelpfully, now perfectly crimson.

"You're a...virgin?  That's what you mean?"

"Yes," muttered Jim, eyes downcast.

"But...but you were _married,_ man!  How's that possible?  You being a...you know."

"Carolyn is a lesbian.  She needed to get married in order to fit into the profile for a career advancement.  It worked.  As soon as she heard she was going to get that new position, we filed for divorce, as agreed.  A divorcee doesn't raise as many question as a beautiful, unmarried woman.  I...didn't mind helping her."

"And all those women you're dating!  And the ones you shagged..."

"Only in flashbacks, Chief, only in flashbacks!"

"Laura wasn't a flashback."

"She was just a badly written script.  You know, one of those that fans dismiss as not being canon, because it's too much unlike the usual behavior of the hero, who normally falls asleep on the couch when he's at some lady's place for a date."

_I wonder what in hell he is talking about_.  _Well, never mind.  Here is my chance to jump his bones.  And to get his cherry, to boot!_

"Well, it doesn't matter, Jim.  I'm experienced enough for both of us.  In women _and_ men.  So this is not a problem.  I just wonder how you managed to, you know...?"

"My father was a very strict man.  I couldn't date anyone when I was at home.  Then I went to military school, then into the military proper.  Never stayed long enough in the same place to meet women.  Then I went to Peru, and, well, the rest is history."

"And in Peru...?"

"I was too focused on my mission.  You know how I am."

_Yeah.  Unable to handle two thoughts at the same time.  
_

"And...the men you worked with?  You were never attracted to them, never had a guy make a pass at you?"

"Maybe."

_Maybe?  What kind of an answer is that?_   "'Maybe'?  What do you mean here, Jim?"

"That it's...possible some men made a pass at me.  One or two times, I had the feeling that there was something..."

_Like, a hand down your pants and a tongue licking your tonsils?  But you just thought he was being friendly, huh?_

"At the time I just thought they were being friendlier that my other buddies," confessed Jim, blushing even more.

Blair's eyes wandered again to the fire alarm.  Still nothing.  Good.  "Well, I suppose that you have, at least...you know..."  Blair made a very suggestive gesture, clenching his fist around some invisible banana-sized object and moving his hand up and down.  Up and down.  Up and down.

Jim's head went into a series of movement making him look like he was watching a tennis competition, only vertically instead of laterally.  Then he stopped moving altogether.

"Jim?  Are you zoning on me?"

No answer.

"Shit.  He's zoning.  Jiiimmm!  Come baaack to meeeee!" yelled Blair in his Guide voice - the one which was guaranteed to raise the dead.

A few loose splinters of glass fell from the remains of the skylight windows.

Blair yelled again.

When it did not work, he belted Jim one.

And another one.

And one more...

_I've wanted to do that for such a long time!_

"Hey, I'm back, Chief, you can stop beating me to a pulp now.  Gee, thanks!"  Jim spit out one or two bloody teeth.  As they were wisdom teeth, he was glad to be rid of them without having to bother with a trip to the dentist.

_Some people are really strange.  He never thanks me when I do something nice for him..._

"What were you asking me when I zoned out, Chief?"

"If you whack off.  Masturbate, you know."

"Oh.  That."

"That."

"Well.  Yes and no."

_Yes_ and _no?_   _What in hell does he mean again?_

"Uh...  It has to be yes or no.  You can't have your cake and eat it, big guy!"

"Whack off, yes.  Masturbate, no," clarified Jim.  "I told you I was a virgin!"

Blair looked puzzled.

" I TOLD YOU I NEVER DID IT WITH ANYONE!" yelled Jim.

A few more of the window fragments fell on the floor.  Several glasses shattered in the kitchen with a harmonious 'ping.'

"Calm down, st...big guy.  The insurance company is going to raise hell about things as it is, no need to increase the damage!  Besides, I don't understand.  What do you mean?"

"Well, I know what 'whack off' is.  I've done it since I was three years old."

_Three?  And I thought I was the precocious one here, having begun at 12 with that delicious kid next door..._

"I'm not totally innocent," Jim went on.  "I've read some of those magazines with lots of pictures.  One of them showed two guys masturbating.  Each had his hand on the other's... peter...and they were doing, you know..."  Jim imitated Blair's earlier demonstration, moving his clenched fist up and down in front of his body.

Blair took his wrist to make him stop.

"Enough zone outs for today, Jim.  Anyway, those were the last of your wisdom teeth."

"Right.  So, you see, yes and no."

Blair sighed.  "I can see I have my job cut out for me.  Well, as I told you, I don't mind teaching you about gay sex.  No hassle."

"But, Chief, I'm not gay!  I'm only madly in love with you, and I want you to teach me all those dirty things they alluded to in the magazines, and one of them had a rather interesting centerfold of this guy with nothing on except a small leather pouch, a chain around his neck and things dangling from his nipples, and, yes, I'm tired of being a virgin, and all that, and please, please, I'm ready, more readier and I'd be dead, and when are you going to show me?" Jim said in a single breath.  He sighed deeply, smiled his special-Sandburg smile, the one that melted ice, and added:  "But I tell you, I'm not gay."

"Whatever you say, Jim.  What about moving the rest of this discussion to the bedroom?  Yours, preferably.  It's got a bigger bed."

They got up together.  In more ways than one.

Once in the bedroom, Blair claimed his Sentinel with a hot, passionate kiss.

Or at least he tried to.

At the third attempt, tired of kissing passionately Jim's cloth-covered sternum, he decided to use the Bogart/Bergman maneuver.

"Keep that thought," he said with a gentle pat at Jim's crotch.  "Back in a jiff."

Blair rushed downstairs and began rummaging in the kitchen.  "Toilet cleaner," he mumbled, "no.  Olive oil, no.  A couple of new sponges.  No.  Ha, here you are!"

He triumphantly exhumed the foldable stool from the cupboard under the sink.  Then he ran back up at breakneck speed, really afraid his oblivious Sentinel was going to forget all about it, as he was so prone to doing, and thinking that he had gone to his bedroom to sleep, would do just that.  But no fear, Jim was still awake.  Blair unfolded the stool and stepped on it.  The extra 12 inches or so were good enough.  This time, Jim responded to the kiss, with all the enthusiasm of a 15-year old, which in a way he was.

Downstairs, there was a low rumble.  Jim's animal spirit, the black jaguar, was wagging its tail approvingly and purring so loudly that it dislodged the few shards still clinging to the window frame. Outraged at being the recipient of such an unusual shower, the panther snarled, sat squarely on the better rug of the room, and pissed angrily on it.

Jim was so lost in the sensual pleasure of his Guide's practiced touch that he didn't even _see_ his animal spirit.  Blair saw everything, and his last coherent thought, before he plunged into the sensual maelstrom of deflowering his big, tough, virgin Sentinel, was:

_I wonder if animal spirits ever get housebroken..._


End file.
